30th December 1974
The next to the last day of the year. Usually at this time I would evaluate the year past. What should I do this year, I wonder? Should I measure my pain? The pain of one who has had everything taken away cannot be measured. Should I make plans for the future? I made so many in previous years. I saw many of them realized after toil and struggle: studies, drawings, paintings, housework, embroideries. All lost! All that remains is the hope of a return to our birthplace, to our looted homes, to start from the beginning.